


Marrying the Montague

by being_alive



Series: Tybalt, Tybalt [10]
Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types, Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare, Romeo et Juliette - Presgurvic, Rómeó és Júlia (Színház)
Genre: F/M, Montague!Reader, POV Third Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 23:32:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14964330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/being_alive/pseuds/being_alive
Summary: "Do you take this woman of house Montague to be your wife?" Friar Lawrence asks, looking straight at him."I do," Tybalt says, quickly, almost too quickly, quickly enough to cause Lady Capulet to frown at him. He can feel her gaze burning holes into him and does his best to ignore her."And do you take this man of house Capulet to be your husband?" Friar Lawrence asks, turning to look at the Montague instead."I do," she replies, her eyes meeting Tybalt's own for the first time this evening.---A companion toIn the Truth, set in Tybalt's point of view.





	Marrying the Montague

**Author's Note:**

> The end is nigh! Or at least, the end of this series. This is the second to last part, so the end isn't quite here yet.

"Do you take this woman of house Montague to be your wife?" Friar Lawrence asks, looking straight at him.

"I do," Tybalt says, quickly, almost too quickly, quickly enough to cause Lady Capulet to frown at him. He can feel her gaze burning holes into him and does his best to ignore her.

"And do you take this man of house Capulet to be your husband?" Friar Lawrence asks, turning to look at the Montague instead.

"I do," she replies, her eyes meeting Tybalt's own for the first time this evening. He can feel his heart skip a beat at the sound of her voice and the fact that she said _I do_ instead of rejecting him, and because of how beautiful she looks.

"You may now kiss the bride," the Friar says and so Tybalt does, bending and pressing his lips to hers in what's probably their softest kiss out of all the ones they've shared, but also the shortest because it's getting hard for him to ignore Lady Capulet's burning glare.

Sure enough, the moment he pulls away from the Montague, his aunt wastes no time in calling for everyone to leave the chapel and go to the Capulet compound for the reception. Tybalt glances at her in annoyance, only to find her gesturing for him to come to her. He looks at the Montague, eyes meeting hers, before he turns and walks after his aunt. 

As soon as he's beside her, she grips his arm tightly enough for it to hurt as she says, "Tybalt, dearest nephew of mine, when I said for you to do something, _this isn't what I meant_."

"Well, aunt, you should've been more specific," he says, wryly, in response before glancing over his shoulder to see where the Montague is. He finds her walking and with Juliette, but also finds that he's too far away to hear what exactly they're speaking of. There's something about seeing the two of them together, the two people he cares for the most, that makes warmth grow inside of him. His aunt's grip on his arm tightens, forcing him to look away from them and back at her. 

His aunt laughs, loud and harsh before continuing her rant, "And you should've known better than to run off and marry a Montague. Juliette I can almost understand, because she's young and Roméo is _handsome_ , but you? No, I don't understand this. Is it because Juliette did it first? Would you jump off of a cliff if she did it first?"

Tybalt looks down at his aunt, eyebrows raised in question and she quickly adds, "No, don't answer that. But please do answer why you decided that you absolutely had to marry this Montague bitch."

"Don't call her that," Tybalt says sharply. His aunt laughs in response before saying, "Fine, then. Tell me why you absolutely had to marry this Montague _girl_."

"I decided to marry her because I love her," Tybalt says in response, admitting it to himself for the first time as well as to her, glad that he had to face Lady Montague first, because his meeting with her has done wonders with helping him say what he is now, because if he could ask her for his Montague's hand in marriage, he can tell his own aunt of why he asked for the Montague's hand. Not too long ago, he never would've dreamt of speaking to his aunt like this. Now, now that the Montague who is actually a Capulet now is really and truly his, he finds that he doesn't particularly care what his aunt thinks about this, and realizes that he hasn't cared what his family thinks about this for a while now.

His aunt gapes at him, speechless for once, her grip loosening on his arm and then falling away, and then they're walking into the room where the Capulets host all of their parties. He and his aunt walk to one of the walls, successfully avoiding everyone who might want to talk to him. It's not that he minds the guests and their well-wishing, but there's really only one person he wants to see right now, and that person is currently steadily making her way through the throng of people, towards him and Lady Capulet. He tries not to feel too much excitement at that fact, because she's getting stopped by many of them and he's still standing with Lady Capulet.

"My own nephew, the only son of my brother, in love with a Montague girl. Impossible," his aunt says in disbelief and disappointment, slowly shaking her head.

"More impossible things have happened," he says in return.

Suddenly, an arm is linked through his. He looks down, eyebrows raised, and sees her, the Montague. She looks up at him and asks, "Can I have a moment to speak with you alone?"

"Surely you can wait until the reception is over to disappear off with him," Lady Capulet says, all courtesy and veiled spite, smiling too sweetly at the Montague. He sees the grimace that briefly passes across his Montague's face before she too quickly smiles and replies, "It's not like that, my lady. I just really need to speak to him about something urgent."

"It's all right, Aunt," Tybalt says, sharply, perhaps too sharply judging by the quick glare Lady Capulet shoots him before nodding to the Montague. She leads him away from all of the people and down one of the hallways, quickly and purposefully enough for him to know automatically that she doesn't just want to talk about how beautiful the ceremony was or how kind the guests were or any sort of trivial wedding details.

"What the fuck, Tybalt?" She asks him the moment they're well and truly out of earshot of any of the guests, roughly wrenching her arm away from his.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tybalt asks in return, crossing his arms. Of all things for her to say, that hadn't exactly been what he'd expected her to say and he can't help but feel a twinge of pain at the bluntness of it.

"What gave you the right to do this? What gave you the right to just show up outside of my room and then leave me to find out that you asked for my hand? What gave you the right, after everything that happened between us?" She asks, voice steadily rising in pitch with each question, anger clear in her voice. The look on her face tells him that she'd like nothing more than to slap him. 

"You didn't have to accept my proposal," Tybalt spits back in return, equal parts hurt and angry, because she has a point, he should've been the one to ask her, but he was scared, too scared of the possibility of her rejecting him to even think to ask for her hand himself. He was a coward and that upsets him because before her, a coward was something he never was. His hand twitches and he wants to hit something, someone, but not her, never her. She continues, that righteous anger still present in her voice, "What else was I supposed to do? Say no and watch you have to marry one of my cousins? Or have me eventually have to marry one of yours, all because of what the Prince decreed?"

"Well, there's your answer," Tybalt spits out, eyebrows drawing together in frustration.

"We barely know each other, Tybalt," she says with a sigh after a moment of both of them just standing there, glaring at one another.

"I want to get to know you," Tybalt says in return, because he does. He wants to know everything, he favorite colors and her favorite foods and her fondest memories and he wants her to know the same of him.

"I want to get to know you better too, Tybalt, but right now I just need to know one thing. Did you just marry me because you couldn't have Juliette?" She asks, crossing her arms. This question he was expecting, because how could she not ask it?

"It was only a matter of time before I was approached, being one of the most notable Capulets, and ordered by the Prince to marry a Montague or have one picked for me, so I thought I'd just go ahead and ask you before that happened. I like you, Montague, sometimes too much for my own good," Tybalt says, sighing, crushing the urge to tell her it was because he loves her. He wants to tell her, but the thought of doing so terrifies him. 

"The feeling is mutual," she says, sighing as well, and he wonders if it truly is, if the feeling he doesn't dare to name aloud is mutual as well.

Tybalt bends and presses his lips to hers then, not wanting to have to say anything else right now. Far, far too soon, she's pulling away from him. He understands why she ended the kiss so quickly, though, because much longer and they run the risk of being found.

"We should probably head back before your aunt finds us," she says.

"Good point," Tybalt says, chuckling, imagining the look on her face if she were to see him kissing the Montague, and then the two of them head back into the reception. They dance and they eat cake and do everything else that happens at weddings, and then Juliette is beside him, tugging at his shirtsleeve.

"Dance with me!" Juliette exclaims once he looks down at her, grabbing him by the hands and pulling him onto the dance floor. He lets her, and lets her lead the dance as well because how can he not, when she looks as radiant as she does? The dance is over soon and then she's throwing her arms around him. He jumps slightly but then returns the hug, running one hand over the softness of her hair. Roméo is one lucky man indeed, Tybalt thinks to himself, a familiar sense of bitterness returning to him.

"Are you happy?" Juliette asks after she pulls away, reaching up and cupping his face in her small hands. It doesn't take him long to figure out what she's referring to. His marriage to the Montague.

"I will be," Tybalt replies, truthfully, his dark eyes meeting hers as he smiles, all traces of bitterness dissipating as she smiles back at him.

"Good," she says, letting her hands fall away from his face as she continues, "Now, give me a kiss and then go back to your new bride."

He chuckles and complies, pressing a kiss to the soft skin of her cheek and then walking back to his Montague. Before long, the guests have started to leave and then it's time for them to retire upstairs. Tybalt wraps an arm around the Montague's waist and then with a final glance towards to remaining guests, leads her upstairs and to his bedroom. He opens the door for her. She walks inside and he follows before closing the door.

"This is a nice room," she says, sounding somewhat amused, and he can't help but smile as he realizes that's exactly what he told her when he was in her old bedroom.

Now the tables have turned and she is here, in his bedroom and on Capulet property for the first time since the first night, when he found her in the gardens, sneaking around and doing whatever it was she was doing there. Someday, he'll ask her why she was there, but for now he finds he doesn't really care, because all that matters is that she's here now and will never have to sneak around Capulet property again, because now even though he still thinks of her as a Montague, she isn't one at all anymore.

Tybalt turns to look away from the door and towards her, still smiling.

"A bit red, however," she adds, nonchalantly, "I may have to insist on some color changes if we are to share the room."

"Would you have me change it to Montague blue?" Tybalt asks, only halfway jokingly, walking so that he's standing directly in front of her.

"Perhaps. But just anything less...obnoxious would be nice," she says, standing up on her tiptoes and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Obnoxious?" Tybalt asks with a laugh, wrapping his arms around her waist. He should probably be offended, but in truth, she could want him to change his room to be bright orange and he'd probably agree to it, just to see her happy. It's pathetic, really, how big of an impact this Montague has had on him, he thinks to himself.

"Yes, obnoxious," she says and then presses her lips to his. She reaches behind his head and pulls the tie that Lady Capulet had forced him to tie his hair back with out of his hair before tangling her fingers in it. He pulls her closer to him, until they're flush against one another and he knows she can feel the beginnings of his erection pressing against her.

"Have I mentioned how handsome you look, all dressed up?" The Montague asks, pulling away from the kiss before pushing him back onto the bed. Taken by surprise, he falls back onto the bed and lands with a bounce. pulling your skirt up around your hips so that you can straddle him.

"No, I don't believe you have," he says, fighting back a groan as she grinds down against his cock. The only things separating his cock from her sex are his trousers and her underthings, but even those few layers are too many, and besides, his trousers are rapidly becoming too tight.

"Well, you look very handsome," she says, trailing a finger from the collar of his shirt down to the top of his trousers as she rocks against him, and his trousers are definitely too tight now.

"And you look very beautiful," he says, reaching up to cup her breasts through the bodice of her dress. He's thought so since the moment he properly met her, but seeing her like this, in her wedding dress, is something entirely different, something impossibly better than before. She arches into his touch as she says, "Flatterer."

"You started it, Montague," he replies, smirking.

"Careful with the dress. It was expensive," she say, a warning in her voice, as his hands move from her breasts and begin undoing the lacing on the front of the dress.

"Perhaps it's better if you take it off, then," Tybalt says, deciding to err on the side of caution, and she gets off of him before getting off of the bed in order to do so. He props himself up on his elbows to watch her as she finishes unlacing the front of the dress before taking it off completely. While she's doing so, he quickly gets off of the bed and carelessly and swiftly divests himself of his own clothing and shoes, briefly considering returning to his former spot and position on the bed before deciding to remain standing. She walks over and drapes the dress over the back of one of his chairs. His dark gaze follows her as she removes the rat of her clothing, her shoes, her stockings, and her underthings before she finally turns back around to face him.

She looks at him, admires him, even goes so far as to ogle him. He can almost feel the heat of her gaze on him as her eyes sweep over every part of him visible to her settling on his cock, where it juts out proudly from between his legs. He's so hard that it's almost painful, but it's a pleasant pain.

Tybalt lets himself look at her as well, gaze traveling over her, lingering on her lips before traveling down to her breasts, down her stomach and even lower, to her thighs and what's between them.

"See something you like?" She asks, looking up at his face now, and crossing your arms underneath her breasts, pushing them upwards. Tybalt's dark gaze falls back on her breasts and he licks his lips before saying, unable to keep his lust from showing in his voice, "I do, as a matter of fact."

"Then prove it," she challenges, walking towards him.

He meets her halfway, bending to press his lips to hers in a bruising kiss. His cock presses against the soft flesh of her stomach, giving only a fraction of the satisfaction he craves. Before long, the Montague pushes him back onto the bed once more. He lays fully down on the bed and then looks up at her, waiting and wanting and needing. A smile spreads across her lips and then she joins him on the bed, straddling his hips, hovering just above his hard cock.

"Please," Tybalt moans out, all desperation and want, resting his hands on her hips. He wants nothing more than to be inside of her, and every moment she linger just out of reach is a torture of the sweetest kind.

Thankfully, she doesn't leave him waiting for long, sinking down onto his cock with haste until every last inch of him is sheathed inside of her sex. She moans once he's inside of her, and he bites his bottom lip to stifle his own moan at the feeling of finally being inside of her. She begins to ride him then, pulling almost completely off of him so that only the broad head of his cock remains inside of her sex before sinking back down and taking all of him inside of her once more.

She maintains that pace, the slow, steady pace of lifting off of him and then taking the entirety of him back inside of her. The view he has is a fantastic one, watching her as she rides his cock, her mouth open ever so slightly, her breasts bouncing as she moves up and down him, and the sight of his cock disappearing into her sex before reappearing, but it's not enough, because she's going too slow for him to get much relief. He only thinks his decision over for a moment before he's rolling both of them over so that he's on top, realigning his cock with the opening of her sex and setting a new pace, faster and harder than before, as he thrusts into her wet and welcoming heat.

She moans, her hands moving to rest on his back before she digs her fingertips into the skin of his back, almost hard enough to bruise. One of his hands comes down between her body and his, reaching down to where he and the Montague are joined in order to rub her clit. It's not long before she's coming around his cock with a loud moan, her sex spasming and clenching around his cock. Tybalt presses his lips to hers in a rough clash of lips and tongue and continues to thrust until he too has reached his peak, coming inside of her with a groan that's only partially muffled by her lips against his.

Tybalt pulls out of her and then away from her before collapsing on the bed next to her, breathing heavily. He looks over at her only to find her already looking at him, and when his eyes meet hers, a smile passes across her face. He doesn't think he's ever seen a sight that is more beautiful than she is right now, smiling, and finally with him, with nothing to keep them apart from this day and every day after it.


End file.
